Under The Old Oak Tree
by simplysunrise
Summary: Matthew recounts the events of past few months to a very welcome new arrival. But has the journey been all rosy? Set post-S2, fluffy, full of angst and all things M/M.
1. Chapter One

_A/N: Hello there! Well, this is my first shot at publishing a story - you may have seen me around, reviewing stories - but this is my very first venture into the writing world! This, of course, is a very M/M oriented story, and without saying too much - there are many more twists and turns to come. It is set post-S2 and is just a little something that I thought of recently._

_This will only be only be a few chapters long, but I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless! I write just for the fun of it - but if you guys think it's worth it, then reviews would be absolutely lovely and very welcome!_

_So without further ado, I hope you enjoy the fluffy-angsty-ness! :)_

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own, or claim to own, any of these characters. They are all property of Julian Fellowes' amazing brain._

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

_26th December 1923_

_Is all of this real? Or is it just a dream?_

_As you lay in my arms, snuggled into your soft woollen blanket, I cannot quite believe how blessed I am to have been given you. The journey has not always been rosy though, that much you must know. While you sleep peacefully against my chest, blissfully unaware of all that goes on around you, I am quite stuck for what to do. I gaze at you in amazement, still unable to fathom your existence. You must forgive me, for I am not too experienced when it comes to things like this. But I give you my word; I will try my best._

_Truthfully, I had quite envisaged this being very different... very different indeed. There are a million and one things that I must tell you, and for that, I pray you bear with me. My story-telling skills are not up to much, I am sorry – I hope you will not hold that against me for too long. But all the same, if there is one story that I wish to tell you well, it is the one of the journey which has been the last six months._

_So, like all stories... we must start at the beginning._

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><p><span>4th May 1923<span>

"Dr Clarkson. Please, come in."

Matthew gestured the doctor into the hallway, trying his best to initiate polite conversation with him, whilst Molesly removed his coat and hat, placing them on the stand in the corner of the modest hallway of Crawley House. "It's terribly good of you to come over at such short notice."

"Oh it's not a problem, Mr Crawley; in truth, it has been rather quiet at the hospital recently," he said matter-of-factly. Matthew supposed they had all become quite accustomed to the rush of activity during the war, and that now, even a ward full of patients would seem rather quiet in comparison. He nodded in recognition. "May I see Lady Mary?"

Matthew snapped back into reality as he was suddenly reminded of the purpose for Dr Clarkson's visit. "Yes of course. She is in the living room, I'll show you through."

The large glass patio doors which led out to the garden were opened wide, welcoming a fresh summer breeze that cooled the living room to a much more comfortable temperature than the humidity of the outside air. The rich glow of the golden sun slowly beginning to set in the reddish evening sky illuminated the room; it was quite alive with a spectrum of mellow colours.

Mary sat against one arm of the settee, aimlessly gazing out into the garden. As the door to the living room clicked open, she made to stand in order to greet their guest, but Clarkson dismissed her efforts almost instantly by waving a hand in her direction.

"Hello, Dr Clarkson. Please, do sit down," she smiled and indicated to the armchair opposite her. Matthew dismissed Molesly of his service and closed the door behind them before swooping around the side of the settee and sitting himself down beside Mary. He took her hands into his and offered her a small reassuring smile.

"Well, Lady Mary. How are you feeling?" Clarkson began, with the most obvious of questions.

"Not too well, I'm afraid–"

Matthew interjected protectively, "She has been constantly ill for the last few days. It's really quite a regular occurrence, it has become every morning now," he started, listing off her symptoms like the evidence at a court case. "My mother has tried to prescribe different herbal remedies which she believed might help, but–"

"But they didn't quite seem to work?" Clarkson chortled, remembering all too well Mrs Crawley's misdiagnosis of Mr Molesly's slight hand irritation. Then again, who was he to criticise her, for he had once told Matthew he would never walk again!

He smiled at an obviously apprehensive Matthew apologetically and then looked back over to Mary, who raised a delicate eyebrow and grinned at Clarkson at her husband's protectiveness. There was a knowing glint in her eye and Dr Clarkson had no intention of beating the bush for much longer.

"Well, Mr Crawley. Unless you would like to be here whilst I examine Lady Mary, might I suggest you step outside for a little fresh air?" Matthew looked positively affronted by his remark, but soon realised that it would be for the best.

He looked at his wife lovingly and gave her hands a squeeze, as he leant into her ear and whispered, "I'll be right outside." He kissed her cheek tenderly, before slipping out of the living room and into his study just next door, where he began to busy himself with bits of unfinished paperwork.

Matthew could not concentrate on anything. What on earth was making her so ill? It puzzled him greatly, and the fact that his mother's remedies had provided no relief to her illness, fuelled his concern even more so. He sat at his wooden desk, arranging and rearranging piles of papers, before his worry rendered him immobile. He stared at the clock, watched it as the hand ticked round and round the face, just like the anxiety that swirled up inside him. Questions without answers, something that as a lawyer, he always endeavoured to resolve; but this was out of his hands. He felt useless and reprimanded himself, as her husband, for not being able to make her well again.

One train of thought led to another and led him further into the depths of his mind, before he suddenly heard a door click open and the low mumble of voices in the hallway. He jumped up and opened the door, only to see Molesly closing over the front door.

"Oh, Mr Crawley... Dr Clarkson just left. He told me to pass on his best wishes to you."

Matthew looked at the valet curiously and pondered the doctor's hasty exit for a moment, before thanking Molesly and turning to enter the living room.

He walked in slowly, expecting to find Mary where he had left her – but there was no one there. "Mary?" He called out, but to no response. Panicked, he swept around the room searchingly, before a figure in the back garden caught his eye. He sighed with relief, "Mary."

Under the old oak tree, she stood with her back to the house and her arms wrapped around herself. Not wanting to startle her, Matthew cleared his throat as he approached her and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. As he did so, he became aware of the slight trembling of her lips and the prickle of tears in her eyes. Worry continued to swell inside him.

"Mary, my darling, what is it? What's the matter?" he said as he walked around to face her, resting his hands softly on her arms, caressing them gently as to coax a response from her.

Mary looked up into his eyes – trying desperately hard to stop the tears from flooding down her cheeks – and took a deep breath. "I am quite alright, Matthew," she sniffed with a small smile. She bowed her head before adding, "It's just that... Dr Clarkson. He said–"

She paused. Matthew placed his hand gently under her chin and tipped her face up to meet his. All of a sudden, she found it extremely difficult to speak; his anxious face awaiting her full reply was tearing at her heart. Taking the moment to regain her composure a little, she shuffled on her feet and gazed over his chest and up to his face.

"Clarkson said... He said that... Matthew, we are to have a baby!" Mary's voice cracked at the realisation of the utterly joyful prospect, and having said it aloud suddenly made it all truly real.

Mary's eyes frantically searched Matthew's face for his reaction; his mouth hung open, his hold on her arms had softened considerably, and his eyes shone the brightest she had ever seen them.

"You're... you're pregnant? Mary... we're... we're expecting?" his voice stuttered as he spoke, desperately trying to come to terms with the prospect. He was shocked beyond belief. "But... but I thought–"

"Ssssh," she closed her eyes and shook her head, dismissing him of his doubt.

Suddenly, the memories of that autumn day last year, all came flooding back to her. Matthew had been at work all day, and Mary had taken it on herself to pay Dr Clarkson a visit. They had been married now for two years but Mary had still not conceived, much to the frustration of her family. They certainly had not held back, that much she knew... But that fact just seemed to make matters worse and as she felt the responsibility grow on her shoulders to produce an heir, she wanted answers. Dr Clarkson had informed her that if she had not already conceived, then she may never be able to have children. The outcome had crushed her and she felt as though the world had collapsed around her. She felt as though she had unknowingly tied Matthew down to a life without children, and it broke her into pieces. When she finally found the courage to tell him of her conversation with Clarkson, two weeks had passed. The news hit him hard, that much she could see. He had never before hidden his desire for children, but now more than ever, he felt that he must conceal this desire – for her sake, as much as his.

Now suddenly, this revelation had shattered all of those barriers.

Ridding herself of the memory, Mary reached up and took his face between her cool palms. The magic of the moment was so overwhelming that Mary could no longer hold back the tears that had threatened to fall long ago. She nodded reassuringly and smiled at Matthew so hugely, her eyes shining with tears of happiness. She wished she could bottle this moment up and keep it forever.

He dropped his arms and wrapped them around her waist, pulling her close to him and kissing her so passionately that she felt light-headed and dizzy with emotion. Matthew pulled his lips away for just a moment, leaned back and looked into her eyes.

"I love you so much, my darling Mary. You have truly made me the happiest man in the world!" he beamed.

Not caring a jot for his back injury, he swept her off her feet and she flung her arms around his neck, wrapped her legs around his waist and their lips met once again, as he carried her back into the cool of Crawley House.

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><p><em>26<em>_th__ December 1923_

_I felt so terribly useless, sitting in my little study and pointlessly rearranging my desk. If I am quite honest with you, I had actually feared that your Mama had some kind of grave illness – and that scared me no end. But that is another story; one I will tell you when you are a little bit older._

_I can still feel the lump in my throat from when your Mama told me the news. As you can imagine, I was quite shocked - but in a good way, always a good way! Only last year, I had found her sitting on our bed with her head in her hands. Of course it was never her fault, how could she even think that? You're not to know though, of course you're not._

_Then __you__ happened, and you were our little miracle._

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><p><em>AN: I truly hope you enjoyed the first chapter - yes, it was fluffy, because I love fluff. But then again it was emotional, because I love emotions. I hope it has intrigued you to want to know what happens next! :)_


	2. Chapter Two

_A/N: Hello my lovelies! Well, I don't know about you, but this week I have been craving a bit of fluff... or maybe I should say, a LOT of fluff! Which, in turn, has influenced this chapter greatly and it has turned out to be one huge piece of candy floss! :)_

_I sincerely hope you are all enjoying the story, I'd just like to thank everyone who has reviewed/favourited/alerted this story. It's my first venture into writing, and to get such a lovely reception - is just amazing!_

_So here, for your daily dose of sugar-coated love, is Chapter 2! Enjoy!_

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

_26__th__ December 1923_

_I remember the day we told your grandparents that we were expecting you. We couldn't contain our excitement for long, and it was the following day that we strolled up to the Abbey some time after lunch. After Clarkson's revelation months before, they had quite abandoned their hopes for a grandchild – so when we told them, you can imagine how delighted they were!_

_Your Grandpa is a very good man, very strong and brave. As we shared the news, he could not help but shed a tear – but he would be very angry with me if he knew I had told you that, so you must promise to keep it a secret. I believe above all else it was relief, a great weight from his shoulders. A relief that there was at least hope for an heir for Downton..._

_Everyone was so excited for us; even the servants at the Abbey often shared their enthusiasm at the prospect of having a child running around to brighten the old place. You were the centre of attention long before you were born._

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><p><span>5th May 1923<span>

"I... I – I cannot quite contain my excitement, please forgive me," Robert chuckled, as he swiftly wiped away the tear that ran down his cheek.

Cora reached out to Robert, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder and smiling at him with a twinkle in her eye that he had not seen there for many years. His heart swelled at the sight of his eldest daughter, happily married to a good and brave man, and now expecting the arrival of their first child. He considered, after all of the trials and tribulations, that the next chapter in their future was just beginning to be written and he finally felt that order had truly been restored.

However hard he tried, Robert could not help but think how perfect it would be, if the baby was a...

"Oh, Papa!" Mary beamed, closing the space between them from where Matthew held her proudly, and placing a tender kiss on her father's cheek. "We could not be happier!"

His daughter's words instantly silenced his – quite frankly – unnecessary thoughts, and he revelled in the pure delight of the moment.

Matthew walked forward and placed a hand on Mary's back, the gentle touch of his strong hand on her back was so soothing and she leant back into it. This beautiful scene was one which met the Carson, as he tentatively opened the door.

"The Dowager Countess, my Lord."

Violet swept into the room to find the family, huddling together in front of the great bay window of the library. Carson nodded to the Earl with a knowing glare, and promptly exited the room.

"My, my, what is on the lawn that is so captivating?" she supposed, that was the reason they were so closely congregated in such a grand and spacious room. "Well...?" she probed, raising her eyebrows in curiosity and observing the red-rimmed eyes of her son.

Robert cleared his throat, "Good afternoon, Mama –"

"I'm sorry, am I missing something here?" she interjected, glancing over at the rest of the family, who looked much chirpier than usual. Their faces all seemed to conceal some great secret, and she was growing impatient at being excluded from the get-together.

At his mother's incessant probing, Robert cut right to the chase.

"We have just received some excellent news, Mama! Matthew and Mary are to become parents!"

Violet's breath caught in her throat and she let out an audible gasp. Mary felt Matthew's hand squeeze hers slightly tighter than it had been; which made her smile. Violet observed the couple, standing side by side, their smiles almost reaching their ears. Everyone waited in silence for her reaction...

"That indeed Robert, is such excellent... excellent news!" With open arms, she stepped forward and embraced her eldest granddaughter and whispered into her ear, "Good things come to those who wait, my dear. Well done."

Those words brought tears anew to Mary's eyes and she sniffed and blinked them back. It was a few weeks after she had received that heart-breaking news from Clarkson, that her grandmother had invited her to tea at the Dower House. She called it a woman's intuition, but the fact remained, that she could tell that something was amiss with Mary. It had been over that small garden table, that her grandmother had first uttered those words to her with a gentle squeeze of her hand and an authoritative nod of her head.

_She was right_, Mary thought, and she nodded in recognition of the hidden meaning behind her kind words of encouragement.

Violet's attention suddenly switched to Matthew as she reached out and took his arm, pulling him slightly away from the rest of the congregation.

"Matthew..." she started, and Matthew held his breath. "Congratulations, my dear, dear boy!" She patted his arm and offered him a satisfied smile; Matthew exhaled a huge breath of relief.

"Now, there are a few things we need to discuss..." Violet led Matthew out of the library and into the great hall. Matthew shot a nervous look back at Mary, who just grinned at him cheekily and left him to her grandmother's doings.

Matthew didn't emerge again for quite a while, and Mary feared he might have been scared off by her grandmother. But almost at the exact moment she had questioned his whereabouts, the library door opened again and Matthew entered and rejoined the group once again.

"What did Granny want with you? I feared she may have scared you off –"

"Not quite," Matthew scoffed, before quickly adding, "I'll tell you later."

They decided to stay for dinner that night, making the most of the extra time to let the rest of the house know the good news.

After dressing for dinner, the first person on Mary's list was Carson. The ageing man had been like a father to her for as long as she could remember, and he had supported her over every hurdle she had faced. Catching him alone in the dining room, as he carried out his usual last-minute checks to the preparations for the dinner service, she seized the opportunity to tell him the news.

"My Lady... that is the best news I have heard in many, many years." The happiness in his heart was written right across his face; he felt as though he was expecting his very first grandchild. A tear slipped down his cheek, and he hastily reached to wipe it away.

"Carson, you needn't upkeep your facade as the respectable butler in all cases," Mary whispered, as she leant into his chest and embraced him so tightly. "What have I done to deserve someone like you?"

He smiled. "A butler always has his favourites, my Lady."

Matthew had the task of letting the servants downstairs, much to the delight of Mrs Patmore, who had always had a soft spot for the future Earl. His unexpected presence sent everyone downstairs into a fluster of panic, before they all ran to gather in the servants' dining room.

"I am terribly sorry for coming down here unannounced –"

"Oh, you don't need our permission, Mr Crawley!" Mrs Patmore interjected with a giddy laugh.

"Well, thank you Mrs Patmore, I appreciate that." He nodded, and wrung his hands together nervously. "I came to let you all personally know the news..."

Silence and anticipation hung thickly in the air and a sea of curious eyes watched him anxiously.

"Lady Mary and I... are expecting a baby!"

An orchestra of congratulations broke out among the servants, each wanting to congratulate him personally and show their excitement at the joyful prospect. The feeling of revealing their happy news to each new person filled him with a sense of such euphoria; it was like a drug and he was well and truly addicted.

Once work had finally resumed amongst the servants, Matthew made his way back upstairs and entered the library. Dressed for dinner and positively glowing, Mary sat on the settee between her Cora and Violet, sharing advice and information on the different things to expect during the pregnancy. Matthew decided to steer clear of the mother's meeting, and instead sought out the company of his father-in-law.

"Oh, Matthew! Do forgive me, but I just had to get a head-start on the announcement of the good news to the extended family and the press. I hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all! I can't quite keep it to myself either. You know, I even told the paper boy this morning!" he chuckled, and perched on a chair near to Robert's desk.

Before they had time to strike up a conversation, Carson entered the library and summoned them all to the dining room.

"Oh well. I guess the family will have to wait that little while longer!" Robert smiled at his son-in-law, before standing and moving through to the dining room with the rest of the family.

Dinner was a pleasant affair; conversation never strayed too far from the topic of the impending arrival or of the latest scandal doing the rounds in Ripon. By the end of the evening, Mary was absolutely exhausted and Matthew could see the slight wilt in her posture and fatigue in her eyes. Ever the father-to-be, he quickly sprung into action.

"My dear, are you feeling quite well?" he said, gently rubbing his hand in circles on the small of her back.

His touch was so soothing against the ache in her back, and she jumped at the opportunity to be released from their company.

"Yes, I think so. I am terribly tired though..."

"I think it's time I took you home; you need your rest –"

"Quite right!" Violet interjected, evidently tipsy on the sherry she had been enjoying in the light of today's good news. "Well done, Matthew. I am glad we have you to take good care of our Mary..." she trailed off.

Mary prised herself free of Violet's grasp on her arm, whilst Robert called for the motor to be brought around and the couple finally bid the party farewell.

When they arrived back at Crawley House, Anna followed Mary up to her room and prepared her for bed, with Matthew and Molesly following shortly behind into his dressing room. They had been living in Crawley House ever since they had married, whilst Isobel had graciously vacated and moved to a house in the village.

As he was changing, Matthew allowed himself time to reflect on the last two days. He had hardly had the opportunity today, being constantly dragged into conversation whenever he was released from another – though he didn't mind in the slightest. Matthew had noticed today, more than ever, just how happy Mary was looking – she was positively glowing. His chest shook as he sighed heavily, and he suddenly realised just how much having a child meant to Mary. Of course he knew it would be something any wife would want, and equally they both carried a responsibility of producing an heir to Downton...but not that long ago, it seemed like it would never happen for them.

_And what if...?_ The thought finally struck him. _What if the baby... is not a boy?_ He hated himself for even thinking it; he should just be happy for a healthy baby. But the fact still remained, that this might be their only chance for an heir to Downton. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind, not even daring to think about telling Mary.

Dismissing Molesly of his duties and bidding him a good night, Matthew crept down the landing and quietly prised the door open. He peeked around the door and tip-toed over to the bed, slipping under the crisp covers and curling in behind Mary.

The sudden warmth of their bodies against the cold night air sent goose bumps down Mary's legs, and Matthew ran his hand along her thigh.

"Are you warm enough, darling?" he said in a hushed voice.

Mary nodded, barely awake after such a long and tiring day. Eyes still closed, she reached down to take his hand and brought it up and to rest on her belly. He smiled at this new kind of intimacy, feeling so close to their future.

Suddenly, Mary shivered against his body and Matthew's protective father-to-be mind kicked in. He pressed closer into her back and enveloped her in his embrace. She felt his breath tickle the hairs on the back of her neck and she sunk closer into his chest. He felt the rise and fall of her chest start to slow into a steady rhythm, until she finally fell asleep in his arms.

His hand rubbed circles instinctively over her stomach and as he slipped into a sweet slumber, he was grateful for all he had been blessed with and excited for all that was to come.

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><p><em>26<em>_th__ December 1923_

_That was the best night's sleep I had for a long time._

_I can still feel you beneath my touch, but to have you here in my arms is so much more magical. A feeling that I wish everyone could experience in their lifetime. The love that you instantly feel for this new person and the knowing that you would do anything to keep them safe – it is the most strong and pure of affections one can feel. I made a promise with you that night that I would always protect you from harm, and I will continue to do so...because I love you so much._

_Oh look, your eyes are so blue._

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><p><em>AN: Et voila! Thank you so much for reading - just to know people are reading is a reward in itself! But you know what be more of an incentive to write more? A review! :) Thank you my darlings!_

_P.S. I hope you are all keeping track of the tiniest details in the last two chapters - they might just have a part to play in the chapters to come. ;)_


	3. Chapter Three

_A/N: Greetings! I am sorry for the slight delay in this chapter, I have been so ridiculously busy that I have had no time to dedicate to it. But now, I am ill, and this has given me an excuse to knock out the next chapter for you all._

_Yada-yada-yada - without further ado, here is it for you all! I am sorry for how this is significantly less-fluffy than previous chapters, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. :)_

_Love to you all, I love you!_

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

_26__th__ December 1923_

_For the first few months after the announcement, I would sit in the library with your Mama and let everyone wonder over the prospect of you for hours on end; it filled us both with such joy and excitement! It especially amused us when your Grandmamas would bicker over the tiniest little details, from the colour of your nursery to the arrangements for the baby shower – though after a while, your Mama did grow quite tired of it all._

_I worried so much about your Mama; you know, at times, you really made her quite ill. But you are not to be blamed for such a thing; she endured the sickness with a smile and a swift brush away of her tears, because she knew you would be worth it. So very worth it... I was always with her, always with you both._

_Before I knew it, five months had passed, and we had just two more months left to wait to meet you._

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><p><span>October 22nd 1923<span>

Matthew was awoken by a frantic rustling of the covers and a cool breeze made by the suddenly empty space beside him, which sent shivers down his back where he lay. _Oh my Mary, _he thought to himself with a worried frown, as he sat up, snatching up his dressing gown and padding over to the bathroom door. Left half-ajar, he could hear his wife being violently ill, something that had been happening every single day for the past three months. _Was this normal?_ He mused, he knew nothing about these things – but from what Isobel and Cora, and sometimes Violet had been commenting, that yes it was quite a normal occurrence. Sighing heavily, he pushed the door open and sunk to his knees on the cold marble floor beside Mary, who was desperately clutching at the toilet bowl.

"Matthew..." she croaked, lifting her head slightly, before the overwhelming nausea engulfed her throat again and her head flew forward as she was violently ill once again.

"Sssh, ssshh, my darling... don't try to speak." Matthew rubbed his hand in soothing circles between her shoulders and pressed a cool hand to her burning forehead, he was her pillar of strength when she most needed it.

It was times like this when he wished he could take the burden from her and bear the pain himself. He hated to see her so weak and vulnerable – it was just everything that Mary wasn't. His head-strong, determined and strong spirited Mary, who over the last few months had withered away into anything but that. He could think of no other way to help her, and it troubled him greatly.

As the sickness finally released its grasp on Mary, Matthew took her up in his arms and helped her back into bed. This day, above all else, Matthew noticed how weak she was – she felt lighter despite her condition, and she was showing more and more signs of fatigue. He needed to do something about it.

Tucking the sheets around her and kissing her tenderly on the forehead, he left the room and went downstairs to call for Dr Clarkson.

"Good morning, Mr Crawley. I hope you and Lady Mary are well..." Molesly began, as he swept from the kitchen at the familiar sound of his master's footsteps.

"I am well, thank you Molesly. But I'm afraid Lady Mary is still quite unwell." Matthew replied; his brow furrowed at the regularity of this conversation. "Would you mind calling for Dr Clarkson to come as soon as he is able?"

"Of course, sir," Molesly nodded and made his way to the telephone.

Matthew waited in the dining room which overlooked the front garden; not wishing to disturb Mary from her much needed sleep, and to greet Clarkson as soon as he would arrive.

After long, the gate at the end of the garden creaked open and Clarkson began to make his way up the path to Crawley House. Matthew jumped up from his seat and swung into the hallway, opening the door and wasting no time in briefing the doctor on Mary's current condition. After a flurry of steadying words from Clarkson and a few deep breaths, Matthew led him up to their bedroom.

Creeping over to the bedside and leaning over her, Matthew whispered into her ear, "Mary...? Mary darling, Dr Clarkson is here."

"Matthew..." her eyes flicked open and he could only see one thing: _fear_. She gripped his arm weakly – the look on her face tore at his heart, "Matthew, please, stay with me."

"Of course I will, I'm right here," he pulled up a seat from behind him and kissed her hand gently, rubbing his fingers over hers reassuringly. He distractedly stroked back the stray hairs that covered her pasty face, as Dr Clarkson made busy work of unpacking the contents of his medical kit.

"Lady Mary, how are you feeling?" Clarkson ventured, gaining a raised eyebrow from Matthew, who had thought he had himself quite clear on arrival.

Mary nodded, "I've felt better."

"I believe you have been ill for quite a while now. The usual period of time in which morning sickness strikes is the first trimester, and you are actually near beginning the third. Do you mind if I examine you?"

Mary squirmed, already feeling uncomfortable as it was, and to be perfectly honest, the idea did not sound too appealing to her. She then looked over at Matthew, who gazed at her with his bright blue eyes, swathed in worry, and reluctantly nodded for Clarkson to proceed.

"Mr Crawley, would you prefer to wait outsi-"

"No thank you, Dr Clarkson. I would much prefer to stay with my wife, if that's alright." Matthew affirmed, smiling back at Mary supportively.

"As you wish," Clarkson began the examination and Mary shut her eyes against his intrusive methods.

All of the apparatus left Matthew wondering quite what he was going to do with it all, but averted his eyes for most of it, fixing his attention solely on comforting his wife. He was so proud of her; she was carrying their child and bringing a new life into the world. Pride swelled in his heart for his dear girl, for all she was doing for him and he felt so small in her presence – _she really is quite wonderful._

Clarkson suddenly retreated from the bed, returning with a primitive kind of stethoscope which he placed on Mary's large belly – his brow furrowing as he shifted one end of it up and down. Matthew studied his every movement with a determined gaze, which set Mary on-edge.

"Matthew? W-what is it?" she asked nervously.

Sensing her worry and discomfort, he released Clarkson from his gaze and stroked her head, offering her a small smile and shake of his head, "Nothing, nothing at all, my dear."

With a deep intake of breath, Clarkson straightened up and retreated to the other side of the room and began packing away his apparatus.

"Mr Crawley, I wondered if I might speak to you for a moment," he said, gesturing for the door.

"Of course," Matthew nodded and gave Mary a soft kiss, "I'll be back in a minute, I promise."

She released his hand and watched as the two men left the room, the door clicking closed behind them.

Matthew's throat constricted with worry, _please don't let it be the flu_, he begged. All of the emotions he had pushed to the back of his memory from that one evening at the Abbey, the evening the Spanish flu had gripped so many of his close ones. The night that Lavinia had succumbed to the illness, weak and helpless and alone – he couldn't bear it all over again. He could not lose Mary. He couldn't lose her! Not now. He wouldn't be able to bear it! And what for the baby? He began to feel tears swell in his eyes and he wished the doctor would put him out of his misery.

"Dr Clarkson, please tell me what it is. Is there something wrong with the baby?"

"No, Mr Crawley. The baby seems perfectly alright to me, it has a very strong heartbeat..."

Matthew breathed a sigh of relief; "Oh, thank goodness!" before meeting the doctor's wandering eyes again. It was obvious that he had not yet told him the whole story. "Well, what _is_ wrong then?" Desperate for answers, Matthew's patience was beginning to run extremely short with the doctor.

"It is... Lady Mary's condition, I am more worried about, Mr Crawley," he stumbled and continued, sensing Matthew's growing unease. "She has become very weak. The morning sickness is the most extensive I have ever seen, but I do feel that that is all it is, morning sickness – nothing else."

Matthew let out an audible sigh of relief, passing his hand over his face as to rid his worry. "So, surely this is normal? Then what was it that you felt you could not say to me in front of my wife?"

Clarkson swallowed and rested a hand on Matthew's arm, "Mr Crawley. I fear... I fear that she may not be strong enough, when the time comes... if she does not recover soon and regain some of her strength."

It hit Matthew like a bullet in the heart; deep, piercing and unmistakably distressing. "Is there anything you can do? How – how... can I help her?" His eyes searched the doctor's face frantically looking for answers, but to no avail.

"I'm afraid, Mr Crawley, that there is nothing much else I, or you, can do. She must regain her energy; a lot of rest, food and fluids... In all likelihood, the birth will be without complication..."

"But...?" Matthew interjected.

"But I would rather be safe than sorry, Mr Crawley. I'm sure you can understand. Now, if you need me again you know where to call – make sure she gets lots of rest, and I'll see you very soon."

Matthew's face dropped, feeling once again, completely and utterly useless. He nodded in acknowledgement, before thanking the doctor for his visit and bidding him farewell.

Under the old oak tree that stood proudly in the centre of the back garden, Matthew sat on _their_ bench with his head in his hands. He wept. The tears would not cease from streaming down his cheeks, although he did not try to stop them. The grief that had suddenly overwhelmed him was like as if a black curtain had been drawn in front of his eyes and he could not see past it, could not see his future past this looming wall of darkness. He battled against the frightening thoughts that filled his head, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing his palms vigorously over his eyes.

_How long have I been sitting here?_ He immediately jolted up from the bench, ridding his face of the tracks of his tears and breathing deeply to calm his anxiety. _I promised I'd be back in a minute. _Matthew quickened his pace as he ran back into the house, not wanting to be away from Mary for a second longer than he had to.

As he entered the hallway, he caught a glimpse of her at the top of the stairs.

"Mary!" he exclaimed, as he bounded up the staircase, "You must stay in bed, my darling."

"I'm pregnant, Matthew, not an invalid!" she sighed, but he seemed far from his usual joking self and it worried her.

His grip firmly around her waist, he led her back into their bedroom and onto the bed. "You really must get all the rest you can."

"Matthew... what was Clarkson talking to you about?"

"There we are, back into bed."

"Matthew...?"

"I'll get Anna to bring you a tray -"

"Matthew Crawley, will you listen to me!" she yelled, and his eyes shot open at her with surprise. Mary flinched at the sudden activity in her belly as a result of her shouting and Matthew almost jumped out of his skin.

"What? What is it? What's wrong?" he said, frantically shifting on his feet.

"Nothing, Matthew... it's nothing. Baby just got a bit upset..." She regarded him with accusing eyes, before adding in a much softer tone of voice, "Please Matthew, tell me what Clarkson said."

His breath caught in his throat. What right had he to withhold this information? It was about her after all! But, maybe if he told her, she would worry more. Maybe she would feel worse and wouldn't regain as much as her strength... He shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts. He was her husband – he was supposed to protect her from harm. But how could he protect her from harm, when _it_ grew within her – and it was his fault for putting _it_ there. Had he unknowingly condemned his wife to this possible fate? Matthew suddenly despised the force within her that was making her so weak, which was taking his Mary away from him – just when they had found happiness. He couldn't believe it, but he wished _it_ gone. Wished _it_ to leave them alone and rid her of its hurt. Matthew only wanted Mary, his Mary, and nothing else. But the tables had turned and he found himself faced with a decision if the time came... _Mary._

Matthew took a deep breath and looked into Mary's eyes. "Clarkson said... that he is worried you are not eating enough, and that you are not getting enough rest." He hadn't lied, but it wasn't the whole truth – that he knew.

"Oh..." she breathed. "Is that all?" Matthew nodded. "Well then, you needn't sound worried Matthew – we'll be fine." Mary smiled, as she lifted her hand from underneath the covers and stroked it gently across her belly.

Matthew's eyes immediately darted to her hand, rubbing so slowly and tenderly over the sheets, he felt an urge to pull her arm away, to shake her up and tell her all that he felt. That he loved her, more than anything else in the world! That she was the only one he wanted – that he didn't care for... if it was going to take her away from him. But he would not, because he needed to stay strong for her and because he had a duty to her as her husband. _Are you a creature of duty?_

Mary looked over at face, deep in thought and she cupped his cheek, taking his hand and placing it where hers lay on her bump.

"Not long now, my darling." She whispered with a beaming smile.

Matthew felt like he was going to be sick.

* * *

><p><em>26<em>_th__ December 1923_

_For what should be an exciting, joy-filled time for prospective parents, I was not able to suppress the fear and anxiety that began to churn in my stomach. I had to be strong, you see... I had not once lied to your Mama, until this day – I thought it would be the most loving thing to do. I felt so terrible for the thoughts that I so selfishly allowed to translate into my actions around her, but love leads you to do the most foolish things. You will understand this more when you are older._

_To lie to those you love, for the lesser evil. I hope you'll forgive me that one time, my darling._

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><p><em>AN: Uh oh, Matthew's having bad thoughts about the baby... what can this lead to, you ask? You'll just have to wait and see! Thank you for reading, and reviews are like the jam in doughnuts to me! :)_


	4. Chapter Four

_Bonjour mes amis! Hello once again, after what seems like an eternity! I am so terribly, terribly sorry for the huge wait for this next chapter - I have had no time at all to dedicate to writing. But I have a little time off now for the next week or so, so I may also try to get another chapter to you all before it's back to the crazy amounts of work._

_I hope I haven't scared you all off, and that you are still enjoying the story. It is my little hit of angst, among the fluffy universe that I adore so much. I thank you so much for all of your support so far, your reviews make my day and they motivate me to continue writing! Just so you know, I would say there are about three more chapters to go._

_Thank you once again for all of your support, and I know I have starved you all long enough of this story... so without further ado, enjoy!_

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><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

_26__th__ December 1923_

_Every morning I had to leave for work was a struggle – to leave your Mama by herself for the entire day. But I knew I had to continue working, I wanted to make sure that I would be able to provide for you both in the future, you see, all by myself. I did not want to have to depend on the fact that I would surely, one day, become Earl of Grantham. I wanted to be able to support my own family, to make ends meet, to live the kind of life I always thought I would do – until that fateful day in 1912. I used to see new fathers walking around Ripon, and I envied them. I wanted to be able to live that kind of life, or at least for as long as I could. Between you and me, I was scared. I still am, quite scared, of the responsibility that becoming Earl of Grantham will bring to me. I hope I will be able to live up to the expectations. _

_So, as much as it pained me, I knew that dragging myself out of bed and gently closing the front door behind me would be for the best. Or at least, I thought it would be..._

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><p><span>28th November 1923<span>

Matthew sat at his desk in his office in Ripon, distractedly strumming his fingers on the hard wooden surface and staring at the pile of paperwork in front of him. By this point, he had lost all ability to concentrate – he was getting less and less work done each day, which required him to stay for longer hours and work over-time, much to Mary's frustration – and very much his own. His office was relatively small and was becoming more and more cramped with cases he had yet to address. The room made him feel claustrophobic, even more so than he already did, within his own head, desperately trying to keep his sanity floating above the surface of a treacherous tide.

There was only one thing on his mind.

His relentless, pessimistic thoughts about the future, the baby, plagued his mind and prevented him from thinking of much else. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw it again, the recurring nightmare that had awoken him from slumber on so many occasions, gasping for air and burying his face into his hands. It was a small figure, barely visible to him, lying in a crib and swathed in blankets. Matthew calls out for Mary, but she does not respond. She does not appear by his side. He grows increasingly agitated and the small figure begins to stir and a shrill scream suddenly emanates from the crib. He runs away; shuns the responsibility with one swift turn of his back as he sweeps from the room and out of the front door, the loud slam behind him finally bringing him out of his reverie.

Matthew shut his eyes tight and shook his head, desperately trying to rid himself of the echoing shrills that resonated in his head. He dropped his head into his hands and his face contorted with the tears that threatened to fall, but they did not. _This is all my fault._ He blamed himself entirely. His Mary... his beautiful, wonderful Mary... so weak and fragile, and he knew not what the conclusion of this story would be. _Uncertainty._ That is what hurt him the most – the not-knowing whether all he lived for, all he cared about, would suddenly be taken away from him with such force that it would surely rip a part of his heart from his chest.

He suddenly felt a huge wave of guilt rush over him; guilt he only just truly recognised as he reflected on the conversation that was had between the two of them the night before.

* * *

><p>It had been a particularly long and hard day at the office, and it was nearly eight o'clock in the evening when Matthew finally returned home. Stepping out of the crisp chill of the winter air and through the warm threshold of Crawley House, he shrugged his heavy overcoat off his shoulders and handed his hat to Molesly with a tired smile in thanks. Matthew started up the stairs to see Mary – as he usually did – before Molesly quipped in haste:<p>

"Oh, Mr Crawley... Lady Mary is not upstairs."

"Well, where on earth is she then?" he retorted, much more frustrated than he had intended it to come out.

"I believe she is in the kitchen, sir, with Mrs Bird."

Matthew's eyes widened at this revelation. He had summoned her to bed, to rest, for her own good, not to exert herself on her feet... and to be in the kitchen, of all places! _If only she knew it,_ he kicked himself for not telling her the whole truth. Did he really have the right to withhold such information? He tried so desperately to disguise from her this internal war he fought constantly. He stormed back down the few stairs he had made progress with before Molesly had interjected, and proceeded down the corridor towards the kitchen. _How could she be so careless?_ His head felt like it was about to explode, feeling his face slowly burn up and turn a darker shade of red.

Mary had her back turned to him as he entered the kitchen, fiddling with something on the counter which her body shielded from his view. Mrs Bird stopped still in her tracks, shocked at Matthew's sudden appearance, before dropping her head and sweeping from the kitchen.

With a slight intake of breath, Mary straightened up, wiping her hands on her skirt as she turned around to meet Matthew's eyes.

"Oh...! Matthew, you made me jump! How are you –" she trailed off, regaining her breath and leaning on the side of the counter for support, as she observed Matthew's tight posture and the emotionless expression his face. "Is – is everything alright, darling?"

He dropped his eyes to the floor and shook his head, before slowly moving forward a few steps and meeting her eyes with more intent. "What did I tell you... about rest, Mary?" he said in a low and serious voice.

"But Matthew," she chuckled, "I've not been out of my room in weeks! All I did was venture to the kitchen to –"

"I don't want to hear it Mary!" He shouted and raised his hand dismissively to her, jolting slightly forward with the force of his exclamation.

Mary flinched and she stared at him, mouth-wide open in disbelief. Tears pricked behind her eyes, she couldn't understand why he had been so malicious towards her lately. For her, this was the last straw – she could bear this no longer. She brought her hand up to her mouth to stifle a cry, keeping the other planted firmly on the counter to steady her shaky legs. Matthew suddenly realised that he had been overly forceful, and began to apologise.

"Mary... I..." he started, taking another tentative step forward and reaching his hand out to her arm.

She pulled away from his touch, squeezing her eyes shut as she could no longer hold back her tears, the hormones of pregnancy becoming so overwhelming all at once. As quickly as she could possibly manage, being eight months pregnant, Mary pushed past Matthew and sobbed her way back up the stairs, the thud of their bedroom door slamming shut reverberated through the house.

Matthew was left standing in the kitchen, alone with his thoughts once again, and terribly flustered at his sudden outburst. He balled his hands onto fists at his sides, breathing deeply, before slowly raising his eyes to where she had been standing. There, on the counter which she had been standing in front of, stood an exquisite looking iced-cake. He stepped closer to it and the delicate aroma of sugar and fruit-sponge filled his nostrils. Written in a pale pink icing on the top of the white icing read the message: _Happy Anniversary, my love._

He brushed his hand over his face exasperatedly. _How could I have forgotten?_ He was letting his work get the better of him lately, and his mind always seemed to be elsewhere. _No. This is not what Mary needs. How could I have been so selfish?_ With a deep, sobering breath, Matthew covered the cake and put it in the fridge, so not to spoil all of her effort. Regret rang loudly in his ears; he hardly noticed Mrs Bird's abrupt reappearance at the sight of Matthew opening the fridge.

"She had this planned for weeks now, Mr Crawley," Mrs Bird chirped at Matthew's turned back. "She was only out of bed for about an hour, and even then I made sure she was sitting down. She..." she paused, considering whether to go on. "She said that... well, Mr Crawley, she just wanted you back."

"Mary knew I would be home a little late tonight, Mrs Bird..." he defended.

"No, Mr Crawley, not like that." Mrs Bird wrung her hands nervously in front of her apron. "She said that she just wanted the _old_ _you_ back."

Matthew was silenced. Mrs Bird nodded and continued with her duties around the kitchen. Matthew hung his head in shame and walked out of the kitchen, through the sitting room and into the garden. The bitterly cold winter air whipped against his flushed cheeks, causing them to turn a darker shade of red. He sat down on the bench, under the old oak tree in the garden. It was a place of solace. A place he went to gather his thoughts. Before their marriage, when he was still promised to Lavinia, and Mary to Sir Richard, he would come to this very spot to just think. It was almost like a natural sedative to him. The faint bristling of the branches overhead and the delicate shadows they cast over the lawn, complimented with a breathtaking view of the rolling fields leading up to the Abbey. It was his retreat.

He sat there and he wept. He hated himself for forgetting their anniversary, and he hated himself for shouting at Mary. But more than anything, he hated himself for being dishonest with her; for allowing himself to let her believe everything was going to be alright... even though it might not be. What he initially thought was an act of love, had slowly manifested into an act of cowardice, driving a wedge between the two them and pushing her further away day by day. Hadn't this been what he was trying to avoid in the first place? Matthew could not bring himself to bear the thought of losing her. But what would have pained him more deeply would be the thought of having pushed her away as a result of his own fearfulness. Matthew knew he had to explain everything to Mary, he understood that now.

All perception of time had escaped him as he made his way back into Crawley House, creeping up the staircase and pausing outside their bedroom door. It was shut and he could tell that the lights were off. _She must be asleep_, he thought. He turned the doorknob gingerly and tip-toed to his side of the bed, shedding himself of his suit in the process. His eyes soon became accustomed to the darkness in the room, and he lifted the covers and slipped into the bed beside a deeply sleeping Mary.

Rolling onto his side, he buried his head in the crook of her neck and whispered, "My darling, I am so... so sorry."

Mary did not reply – her breathing remained slow and controlled. Matthew watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest, waiting for any indication that she may be awake – but to no avail. He had not _touched_ her in many, many weeks, more so for his own peace of mind... but lying side by side next to her sent yearning to be closer to her, to be _with_ her, coursing through his body with vigour and desperation.

Matthew looked down over the large bump in the quilt. For the last few weeks, he had been unable to even look at it, without suddenly feeling a sense of loathing plague his mind. _It should not be like this!_ He wanted desperately to be happy. _Mary is carrying my... my child..._ he finally brought himself to say it. The faint whisper of her breath in his ear, a sign that she was still here, and he had to live for now, there is no point living in the future before it has even been told. He brought his hand up underneath the duvet and placed it delicately on top of the bump. It was warm and it rose and fell with Mary's breath. He gently caressed it, feeling more connected to the child than ever before – he could even feel it shifting slightly underneath his touch. In the light of all else, nothing seemed significant enough to matter at that moment in time. Suddenly, there was a firm kick to the centre of his palm and it made Matthew jump! It was the first time he had ever felt his child move before. For the past few months, he had not gone anywhere near the bump. But now, there was this tiny little indication that he or she knew the touch of their father, and this had Matthew's eyes welling up with emotion. He spent the rest of his time in wonderment of it all, until his thoughts finally lulled him to sleep.

Mary had been asleep when he first got into bed, but at his tender touch to her belly, she woke, and she watched and felt his every movement with a silent gaze.

* * *

><p>Matthew looked at the clock. It was just after two o'clock in the afternoon and he wasn't meant to finish until five, but after all that had happened last night, he felt that he owed Mary an apology and he needed to tell her the truth. So he gathered up his briefcase, swung on his winter coat and placed his hat upon his head, nodding to the receptionist as he exited his office.<p>

"Oh, Mr Crawley!" the receptionist stood from behind her desk, waving a piece of white paper in front of her. "You had a missed call; I believe it was from your house."

"Well who was it? Did they leave a message?" Matthew inquired anxiously.

"I don't know, sir. They did not care to say much..."

"Well how long ago was it? When were you planning on telling me about it?" He could hear the tone of his voice rising and decided this conversation would come to no suitable conclusion, so he huffed at the woman, shrugged his shoulders and left the building, walking at a faster pace than usual.

The bustle of the train from Ripon to Downton was unbearable. His mind was crowded enough as it was, the last thing he needed was to have groups of mothers with their screaming children running around the carriages. He couldn't breathe.

When the doors opened at Downton station, Matthew almost fell onto the platform with relief. He practically ran from the station all the way to Crawley House.

"Mother!" Matthew exclaimed, out of breath and stumbling through the front door.

"Hello my dear! You are... home rather early from work, aren't you?" Isobel took his briefcase and placed it on the entrance table. "Anyway, that is not important. Did you get my call?"

"Oh, that was you? Yes, I was made aware of it as I left. Is everything alright? Where's Mary?" Matthew looked around worriedly, his eyes big and full of concern.

Isobel held her son's arm, "I thought Mary would have told you about it. Today was her check-up with Dr Clarkson, I... I thought you would have wanted to be here."

Matthew's eyes grew impossibly wider. He had not been there – and he knew exactly the reason why she had not told him about her next check-up. Bile rose in his throat at the thought of her having to face it alone, even though he knew how strong she was. Lately, he had made it seem as though he did not want to have anything to do with the child, so he gave her no reason to tell him about it. _Why can I not do anything right?_

"Dr Clarkson left about half an hour ago... but ever since, Mary has been sitting outside on the bench by herself. I tried to make her come back inside, but she wouldn't have any of it! I'm glad you're home, maybe you can talk some sense into her."

Looking out of the patio doors into the garden, he could see Mary, sitting on the bench under the old oak tree, with her back to the house. What had happened during the check-up? Matthew's heart sank and he began to panic. He pushed open the patio doors and trudged over the snow-sprinkled lawn to sit down beside Mary.

"Oh my darling, you must be freezing! Here..." he removed his large winter coat and placed it around her shoulders, keeping a weary distance as the night before had still not been resolved.

She remained still.

"Mary... about last night... and, perhaps the last few weeks too... I can't tell you how sorry I am, for everything. I have been so selfish and I have shunned my responsibilities as a husband for far too long." He took her hand in his; it was cold and limp, and he ran his thumb over her knuckles. "I just need you to know that you are the most important thing in my life..."

"Dr Clarkson told me." She finally broke her silence.

Matthew's head whipped round to look at her, a tear rolled down her cheek and his thumb stopped caressing her hand. Mary turned her head slowly to meet Matthew's eyes.

"He told me, Matthew. He told me what you couldn't... no, wait, what you wouldn't tell me." She withdrew her hand from his and sniffled from the chill in the air. Matthew was stunned into a silence. "How could you not _tell_ me? I don't understand." Tears were now rolling down her face and Matthew realised just how much he had hurt her; this was the time to make things right.

"Mary. Please, don't cry my darling. I want to explain..."

"Please, do! For I have been left out of this apparently insignificant secret that you and Dr Clarkson share about me!"

"It's not like that, Mary!" He replied, adamantly. "The only reason I decided not to tell you, was because I didn't want to worry you, especially in your condition!"

"Oh, so you thought it would have been better to just not tell me at all? When were you planning on telling me about it, if at all? When, Matthew? When I was about to deliver our child?" Mary snapped.

"No! Mary, I should never have withheld the full truth from you, and for that I am sorry. You have no idea how much I hate myself for being dishonest with you! I was selfish because... I was scared. By not telling you, I thought you would be able to regain your strength and everything would be alright! I have thought of nothing else for the past few weeks, and I am terribly sorry for forgetting about our anniversary! I realise now that what I did was not solely out of love, but also out of my own cowardice. Mary, I... I can't lose you..." he hung his head and shut his eyes.

"Oh, Matthew..." Mary leant forward, shaking her head and grabbing both of his hands in hers; they were warm against her palms. "You won't lose me... I am stronger than you give me credit for." She gave him a wry smile with watery eyes, rubbing over his hands gently. "Don't you remember the strong-minded Mary Crawley who burst into this house, when you met her for the first time back in 1912?" Matthew lifted his head to meet her gaze tentatively. "She is still here, my darling... right here."

Mary lifted his hands and placed them on her belly, eliciting a prompt and firm kick from the baby. Matthew let out a joyful chuckle behind his tears and shook his head.

"Mary, I am so, so sorry... You mean everything to me. I will go to the ends of the earth to protect you... and the baby. Can you forgive me?"

With that, Mary cupped his cheeks in her hands, and drew his face closer to hers so that they were now only inches apart. She leant forward and closed the gap between them, their lips locking into a passionate and searing kiss. Her hands roved around in his hair and his slid desperately all over her back, wanting to be closer to her, wanting to take her as she was. It had been far too long. Everything else they needed to say was done so through their actions, speaking much louder and fervently than mere words could. They had shifted closer to each other along the bench and Matthew pressed up against Mary, their body heat sent shivers down their spines. Then suddenly, Matthew felt a firm against his stomach and he smiled against Mary's lips.

"He or she knows their father's touch." She let out a giggle and bit her lip, stroking her belly to calm down their extremely lively baby.

Matthew stole another kiss, relishing the pure joy in her expression – he realised, he had never seen her so beautiful before. She truly was glowing.

"Was everything else alright, during the check-up with Dr Clarkson?" Matthew placed his hand over hers.

"Apparently so. He said that the baby is growing very well and we should expect to meet him or her before Christmas." Her expression was full of excitement, but Matthew could tell that she was nervous.

"Well that's very exciting news!" He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed it tenderly. "And... what of your condition?"

Mary smiled at him but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "He said that I am in fine health. He said that I might become more uncomfortable towards the end, but that it is perfectly normal. Remember Matthew, I am a Crawley woman, we don't go down without a fight!"

Her statement was meant to be light-hearted, but Matthew couldn't help but see the sombre side of her remark.

"Everything will be alright, my darling. I promise. I won't let anything happen to you." His reassuring words filled Mary with comfort and hope... hope that everything _would_ be alright. "You must be freezing! Come, let's go back inside. I'll have Molesly make us some tea." He gave her a sly wink and helped her to her feet, wrapping his arm around her shoulders protectively.

"Could you ask him to bring some cake as well?" She raised her eyebrow playfully at him. "Well, we can't let it go to waste now, can we?"

* * *

><p><em>26<em>_th__ December 1923_

_What I took away from these few weeks was the fact that hiding my true feelings and allowing them to manifest into something dangerous, will benefit no one. I learnt to tell the difference between an act of love and an act that had other intentions at heart. If you ever want any advice from your old man, then I would just say one thing – honesty is the best policy. Someone once told me, that you regret being honest less often than you regret telling lies. It's a tricky business, the heart, love... but it is also one of the most natural and joyful things in life. It is what I felt for your Mama, the first moment I ever laid eyes on her. And it is what I felt for you, from the second you came into my life._

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><p><em>AN: Ta-daaa! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, it's a little longer than the rest, and it's also a little 'heavy-duty' in places - so thanks for sticking with it! I love you all!_


	5. Chapter Five

_A/N: A long awaited addition to this story. I must first apologise profusely for the delay in any updates, I hang my head in shame. I have been extremely busy in the past few months, but I hope to bring this story to a finish in the next couple of weeks. I would say there will be another two chapters to come after this one._**  
><strong>

_Thank you so much to those of you who are still following/have favourited this story - I bow down to worship you all! And as always, I love to hear your views on this story. Sit back, relax and... oh wait no, I don't think this chapter really allows you to do so... I guess you'll have to read to find out what I mean. Hold onto your hats!_

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><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

_26__th__ December 1923_

_The day grew closer. Your Mama's due date came and went, and after a week there was still no sign of you. We were all so excited to finally meet you, though it seemed you were not as willing to meet us, as we were you. Your great-Grandmama had been quite right when she had said, "He or she is obviously too comfortable in there, and they are not ready to face the world yet. They will choose when the time is right." Much to your Mama's exasperation, as all she longed for was to finally meet you – after such a long and trying wait._

_After I returned from work, I would always find her sitting in the nursery on the rocking chair, singing some kind of sweet ballad to you. We have had our fair share of ups and downs, your mother and I, but that is a story you will hear a little more about when you are older. What I realised during those precious moments, was that fear is not to be feared and that you must not be afraid of the future, because everything happens for a reason._

_Having said that, you certainly gave us all quite a shock when you eventually decided to make your appearance._

* * *

><p><span>24th December 1923<span>

"But darling, we really don't have to do this – if you're not up to it." Matthew said, as he stood behind Mary at her dresser, stroking the top of her arms gently.

Mary eyed him in the mirror, her darling husband who had become the complete opposite of what he was a few weeks ago: loving, sensitive and slightly over-protective. Though she didn't mind, it made a pleasant difference.

"Yes, Matthew. We do have to do this. It's Christmas Eve!" she retorted, but with a slight playful tone in her voice.

Matthew's lips parted in disagreement and he searched his wife's face. "Well forgive me for caring too much about your well-being."

"Don't do that..." she breathed and hung her head, eyes glued to the contents on the surface of the vanity in front of her.

"Do what?!" Matthew took a step back and ran his hand through his hair. "Worry about my wife? Worry about our unborn child? Well, I am sorry if I feel that perhaps Christmas could take a backseat for once, just for 1923!"

Matthew began to pace the room with such purpose that Mary feared he would mark out a hole in the flooring. She pushed herself up from her dresser, with as much grace as she could muster and turned to face him.

"Sssshh," Mary lifted her arms up around his neck and rested her forehead onto his. "Do you know what I want?" Matthew hummed curiously in response. "I want... to go up to the abbey, and have a pleasant evening with our family – without worrying about the baby, okay?"

She took his face between her warm palms and stroked his cheek with her thumbs. "Hmm? Will you afford me that, Mr Crawley?"

After a deep exhale, Matthew nodded and kissed her forehead, before sweeping from the room to call for the car to be brought around.

* * *

><p>As expected, the evening was pleasant for all. The halls were alive with lights and music, holly and mistletoe decorated every arch, and the rooms were filled with the festive scent of the Christmas tree. Sybil had decided to spend Christmas with Tom in Dublin that year, and Edith was just settling into her new life with Anthony Strallan. So the celebrations consisted of Robert, Cora, Isobel, Violet, Mary, Matthew and a house full of servants, who had quite outdone themselves with the preparations this year. It was perfect – charades were played, tales were told and laughs were shared. Everyone was eagerly awaiting the sound of the dressing gong, as an indication that dinner was nearly ready.<p>

"What a sight for sore eyes you are, Lady Mary!" Anna chirped as Mary entered her old bedroom.

Mary blushed profusely, before smiling brightly at her old ladies-maid and embracing her tightly. "Thank you, Anna! It's really quite lovely to hear that from someone, especially when I am this big!"

"It has only made you more beautiful, milady. You are glowing!" The women shared many stories as Anna helped Mary to dress, laughing and reminiscing about the past, like old friends do.

"Oh! I left your diamond earrings in the other room, I won't be a moment!" And with that, Anna disappeared from the room.

Mary stood and walked over to her old bed, brushing her hand over the soft, deep red linens. She thought of all of the things that had happened in this room, both the good and the bad. At the remembrance of those memories, a sickening feeling began to brew in her stomach and she tried to rid herself of them nearly as soon as they entered her mind. But suddenly, a sharp bolt of pain seized straight through her core and she doubled-over, clutching tightly against her belly. It felt as though she had been punched in the stomach. Mary squeezed her eyes shut and clenched at the linens as the pain failed to relent, until suddenly and all at once, the pain disappeared. Mary slumped to her knees in relief.

"Are you alright, milady?" Anna said, as she swept across the room to her side, helping Mary to her feet.

Mary tried her best to regain her breath, before putting on a brave smile. "Yes, quite alright, thank you Anna." _It was probably nothing,_ she told herself; nothing to worry about at all. Not wanting to raise alarm among such a festive evening, she attempted to change the subject. "Did you happen to find those earrings, Anna?"

"Yes milady, here they are. Will you be needing anything else?"

"No. Thank you, Anna." And with that, Anna nodded and left the room.

* * *

><p>The family had begun to assemble themselves in the library before dinner, idly conversing about the upcoming baking show that would take place in the village hall later that week. Violet was busy discussing the competition with Isobel, earning a few raised eyebrows from the rest of the family who sat quietly around them. Matthew stood alone at the side of the room, browsing thoughtfully over the titles of a collection of books, tracing his finger along their spines in fascination as he did so. The humming of familiar conversation rang through his ears and he soaked up the cheerful atmosphere.<p>

Suddenly, a loud thud reverberated through the walls of the library and all conversation ceased instantly. Matthew turned, his eyes scanning around the room at the sea of curious faces before him, before realising that Mary had not yet returned from changing. His breath caught in his throat, and he quickly made for the door. Swinging it open, his heart pounded fiercely in his chest as he strode purposefully out of the library and into the great hall.

Matthew gasped.

Mary was sunk against the bottom of the staircase, desperately clinging to the end of the banister with one arm, and the other pressed firmly against her belly. Just as Matthew caught sight of her, she let out a low groan in pain and clenched her teeth together, squeezing her eyes shut and tightening her grip on the banister. He quickened his pace and ran across the great hall to her worriedly, reaching out for her hand and attempting to steady her erratic breathing as she drifted in and out of consciousness.

"Mary!" he breathed, as he knelt down beside her, taking her hand in his and using the other to rub her back calmingly, whispering to her soft words of reassurance. "Ssssh, my darling, I'm here... Everything is going to be all right, just breathe."

The sight of Mary in such agonising pain distressed him deeply, and he felt as though his heart was being ripped from his chest. He knew absolutely nothing about a woman with child, and so he was utterly relieved to notice the convoy of help that rushed into the hall behind him.

Isobel led the way and instantly began barking instructions at the rest of the family and servants who had gathered at the sound of the commotion in the great hall. Carson immediately left to call for Dr Clarkson, but remained as composed and presentable as ever. Cora became terribly flustered about the situation, and so began to order for Mary's old room to be prepared. Concern for his daughter was written all over Robert's face, he hated to see her in pain and he was dumbstruck about how to help. Luckily, Violet kept a cool head on the situation and laid a steadying hand on her son's arm.

"We need to get her to her bedroom." Isobel announced. But as soon as they tried to lift her to her feet, another bolt of searing pain shot through her body and she collapsed back onto the stairs.

"No! Please!" Mary whimpered. "I can't do it!"

"Yes you can my darling, yes you can." Matthew was almost in tears, and quite without thinking, he swept her up into his arms and started up the stairs towards her bedroom.

Her head was buried deeply into his chest, her arms were locked tightly around his neck, and he tried desperately to whisper words of encouragement to her as they entered the bedroom. He lay her down on the bed, but she would not let go of his hand. A bustle of action happened around them; of people bringing in towels and all other kinds of things of which he could not imagine their use. He looked down at his darling Mary, who looked so flustered and terrified at all that was going on around her that it tore at his heart. He felt so terribly useless.

"Is there anything I can do?" Matthew asked his mother, who was busy briefing the newly arrived Dr Clarkson.

"Stay..." He heard a small voice from behind him, it was Mary. "Please, stay with me."

Matthew whipped back around and knelt down by her bedside, clasping her hand in his. "Oh my darling, I am not going anywhere." He leant forward and placed a kiss to her forehead, smoothing down loose strands of her hair.

"I'm sorry, Mr Crawley, but you can't stay in here." Dr Clarkson stated, as he made his way around the other side of the bed to examine Mary.

Mary's eyes widened in pure terror, and Matthew could have slapped Dr Clarkson. He tried to keep his cool, for Mary's sake, but still authoritative enough to make his point heard.

"I wish to stay – right here – with my wife, Dr Clarkson." Matthew replied, adamantly.

"I am sorry, Mr Crawley. But the delivery room is no place for husbands."

"Come on, Matthew, there are already too many people in this room, there is about to be one more." Isobel chirped, standing in support of Dr Clarkson.

Matthew glared at his mother, how could she not understand what this meant to him? There are no rules that say husbands are not allowed in the delivery room!

"Matthew..." A stern voice spoke out from the doorway. It was Robert. "Matthew my son, come now. Everything will be alright." He gestured for his son-in-law to follow him into the hallway, being careful to not see any more than he wanted to.

Mary's grip on Matthew's hand tightened and he looked back at her. There was pleading in her eyes, and apology in his.

"I will be right outside, my darling..." he soothed, "I promise."

"No!" Another paralyzing shoot of pain coursed through her body, "Matthew, please don't leave me! I can't... I can't do it without you!"

Matthew looked around the room at all of the waiting faces, desperately trying to find some solace, but none awaited him. The burden of the decision weighed heavily on his heart until he felt breathless.

"I have to go, my love. Everything will be alright, I promise." He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it softly and so reassuringly, but it is of little comfort to Mary.

Then, Matthew suddenly feels the firm grip of Robert's hands on his shoulders, coaxing him out of the room and away from his Mary. She grips his hand so tightly until they are too far apart to hold on any longer, and her fingers slip delicately from his. Just as the door begins to close, a single tear rolled down Mary's cheek and she closed her eyes against the pain and the loss.

As the door to the room clicked shut, Matthew let out a deep breath that he did not know he had been holding. As Robert led Matthew down the hallway, the sounds which were once so clear and so deafening were now muffled by some kind of barrier – an obstacle so insignificant that he felt he would be able to break through it at any given moment.

He could hardly breathe.

Robert could read his son-in-law like a book. Every new father experiences the same thing, and having been through it three times himself, luckily Robert knew the perfect remedy.

* * *

><p>From the outside, the house glowed with an ethereal haze, regally poised at the top of the hill. The darkness of the night sky lingered across the grounds and contrasted against the bright lights that shone through the frosted windows. The crisp, white snow glistened under the shine of the full moon, beaming down through the clear night sky. A gentle whisper of the wind whistled through the brittle branches, which had been stripped naked of their leaves, as they desperately clung to the trunk. Nothing stirred. It almost seemed as if peace permanently roamed the land, an oasis of calm, if you like.<p>

However, things inside the house could not have been more different. The tension in the house was palpable and hovered in the air like a great smog cloud, almost suffocating. The sound of the grandfather clock reverberated through the great house. No one was asleep. Every inch of the house was alive and breathing.

Anxiety had crept into Matthew's bones, rendering him motionless in fear whenever those shrill screams echoed through the Abbey. So many thoughts furiously rushed around inside his head, almost making him feel dizzy with confusion, nervousness and excitement.

Matthew paced the length of the library restlessly, hands locked behind his back and his head bowed in thought and a distant look across his face.

As Robert leant against the mantelpiece, with the fire blazing beneath, he watched the young man sympathetically. Matthew's actions reminded him all too well of how he had behaved when Cora was in labour and his heart ached for his son-in-law.

"My dear boy, do sit down. I'm sure it will be a while yet..." Robert desperately tried to calm the young man's nerves, but achieved quite the opposite.

"This will go on for a while?" Matthew's eyes widened in horror and he ran his hand through his hair concernedly. "How much longer? I can't – I can't bear to hear Mary so in pain! There is nothing I can do and – it is driving me insane, Robert!"

The older man stood from his armchair and laid a steadying hand on Matthew's shoulder.

"Oh my dear boy, we must be strong." He whispered, as he led Matthew to a chair and poured him a brandy. "Everything will be alright."

"But I wish there was something I could do!" Matthew yelped.

"We all do. But there is nothing more we can do... You must let nature take its course."

Brimming with tears, Matthew raised his eyes to Robert's, and in them he felt reassuring warmth from the older man, and it offered him a small comfort amongst the turmoil. Robert nodded and sat down in the arm chair opposite Matthew, taking a large swig of brandy from his glass in an attempt to calm his own nerves.

Wiping away the tears and desperately trying to regain his composure, Matthew took a swig of the brandy that Robert had placed in his hand and slumped back into the armchair. His body was still rigid with tension, but the momentary calm amongst the storm allowed him to relax slightly against the warm leather of the chair. The chaos of the evening began to take its toll on Matthew, and he dared to close his eyes for just a few moments...

* * *

><p>As the grandfather clock struck two in the morning, both Matthew and Robert had finally succumbed to their fatigue and they sat slouched in their arm chairs, bathed in dim light of the library.<p>

Suddenly, and terrifyingly, both men were awoken from their slumber at the sound of a bellowing scream.

Matthew shot a glance at the clock and realised he had been asleep for well over an hour.

The screaming subsided.

The rushing from above ceased.

The air stood still.

Robert and Matthew sat looking at each other, neither daring to withdraw their stare, nor to even breathe.

Then, after so many hours, an unmistakable noise resounded from upstairs. A sound so overwhelming that both men were reduced to tears... The sound of a baby crying.

The most pure and innocent of cries, it wailed through the house as if to announce to the world its arrival.

Matthew's jaw hit the ground as the tears swelled in his eyes, slowly clouding his vision. He had lost all feeling in his body, only the sound of those bellowing cries echoing in his ears. He looked over to Robert with a look of uncertainty and disbelief. Robert let out an audible sigh and smiled back at him, wiping away the tear that rolled down his cheek with a silk handkerchief.

"Congratulations, my dear boy... congratulations!" He stood up and embraced his son-in-law with almighty strength, but Matthew was still speechless.

At that moment, he was unable to fathom the reality of it all. He was a father now. And Mary had given him the most special gift anyone could ever give him. _Mary, my darling Mary... _He could only think of her, and he longed to hold her in his arms again, to comfort and to worship her.

Matthew stared expectantly at the door to the library, longing for some movement, any movement, or an indication that everything was alright.

His palms were becoming sweaty and his patience began to wane. Until finally...

The faint sound of footsteps approaching the library alerted the men, and they stood anxiously side by side in the middle of the room. The door to the library slowly opened, and Violet emerged into the room, with tears in her eyes.

**TBC**

* * *

><p><em>AN: Dun dun duuuun... I do love a cliffhanger! The next chapter will reveal all, and it will be uploaded in the next few days, so hold your breath until then! (Okay, not literally, but you know what I mean.) If you are reading this... you are awesome._**  
><strong>


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